


cherries

by captmortemers



Category: Platinum (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:21:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25342381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captmortemers/pseuds/captmortemers
Summary: An AU in which One In A Million doesn’t happen, but things still have a way of working themselves out.
Relationships: Raleigh Carrera/Main Character (Platinum)
Kudos: 5





	cherries

Raleigh’s latest headline was branding him, yet again, a terrible influence for the youth of America.

Personally, he figured the youth of America could give less of a shit about a rich famous asshole being a rich famous asshole. After all, he was giving them what they wanted, and he was always careful not to hurt, y’know, _people_.

“R&B’s time bomb” caught his attention, made him laugh a little, but it was the part below that gave him pause.

“A rebel in search of a cause.”

He scoffed. Like any tabloid knew anything real about him.

As celebration (or whatever), Raleigh figured he’d prove their point. He bounced from club to club that night, leading around a clique of B- and C-list celebrities he barely even knew, but who all ‘knew’ him. He started off the night perfectly: riding on two lines, about three bowls, and far too many drinks to count. The world was spinning by in a pleasant haze, filled with bright flashing colors and a blur of sound. It was great. He felt detached, but in a fun way. A good way. A long-time-coming way. Possibly this would piss off his manager, who’d already been on his ass for not going to the studio in literal months, but he couldn’t have cared less.

At club #6, sometime past two in the morning, the group Raleigh was with dipped from mildly annoying to insufferable. Probably to do with the fact he was slowly getting more and more sober. He made an excuse about more drinks and slipped through the crowd in the direction of the bar. It was late enough in the night that drunk party goers hardly recognized him. One of those rare days.

He was halfway to the bar when something the size and shape of a person fell past him and suddenly there was a woman in his arms. He hadn’t even realized he’d instinctively grabbed her until he was looking at her. Then he couldn’t stop looking.

The flashing blue, purple, and green strobe lights made her body glitter. Her dark eyes reflected the same glow, making them look like bright little galaxies. Snug, revealing clothes clung to her in all the right places. Long box braids fell down her back, decorated with little gold clips that shone like fire. She was laughing, giddy and a touch nervous. Raleigh could barely hear it over the noise of the club, but somehow it still sounded like music to him. “Sorry!” She said, laughing still, her speech slightly slurred. “Sorry, I—“

As if he could be upset that there was a literal angel in his arms.

“Don’t be,” He replied. “It’s hardly the first time a complete stranger has fallen for me.”

Was it a little sad that he meant that? Probably.

Her grin turned downright blinding. “Yeah?” She asked. “You catch them all like this?”

He smirked. “Only the gorgeous ones.”

She laughed again and started pulling away. Raleigh regretfully let her go, drawing his hands back as soon as she was steady on her feet. (As steady as she could be in heels that tall.) She stayed close, though. Close enough it would’ve been nothing to kiss her. He didn’t, but he definitely considered it.

“Well, thanks for the save.” She stuck a hand out at him. The formality of it made him snicker. “I’m Anaya.”

Anaya. He wanted to sing it.

He took her hand and shook it, feeling like he was making a business deal. Her palm was warm and soft, aside from some calluses on her fingertips. Guitar calluses.

“Raleigh,” He said, only a little disappointed when she tilted her head and reassessed him.

“You look familiar,” She settled on.

“I get that a lot,” He replied honestly. Almost immediately one of his entourage called out to him, demanding another round of shots.

The guy was one of the lead actors on TV’s latest hit teen drama. His face was literally everywhere. There was no mistaking him. Subsequently, there was now no mistaking Raleigh.

Recognition flashed across Anaya’s face. Her eyes went wide. _Oh, here we go_. “Oh my God,” She said. “Raleigh. As in… Raleigh Carrera?”

He flashed the smuggest, most insufferably charming smile he could, the one MARC hated with a burning passion and used in half of their totally-not-racist-propaganda. (The other half usually being one of his many mugshots, of course.) “Guilty as charged.”

“Wow,” She said, eyes wide. “I didn’t recognize you with the shorter hair. And the lack of destroyed property around you.”

He snorted. “You think I just cause mass destruction everywhere I go?”

She raised her eyebrows. “Are you seriously pretending you don’t?”

“I mean, no. But sometimes it’s just regular destruction. Even minor, depending on the mood.”

Anaya snorted. “Riiiiight,” She said, dry as the desert. She glanced over to the group he’d abandoned, still looking starstruck. “They need you back there?”

“Nah,” He said immediately. “They can find someone else to leech off.”

She blinked at him. “Sounds like it hasn’t been a very good night.”

“Oh, it’s getting better.”

Her smile widened, turning a little embarrassed. “Huh. It’s even worse in person.”

He arched an eyebrow. “What is?”

“The charming asshole act,” She said, eyes sparkling as she took a step forward. Teasing. She was _teasing_ him.

He couldn’t stop grinning at her. This was certainly a pleasant surprise. _She_ was a pleasant surprise. “So you think I’m charming, huh?”

“Hey hey hey. I also said asshole.”

He threw his head back and laughed. Okay. This was officially the most fun he’d had all day. All week, even. All month.

The song changed to something with a little more punch to it. He took her hand and asked, “Wanna dance?”

Anaya’s face went blank with surprise, before that incredible smile was back. “Hell yeah.”

She yanked him out onto the dance floor, another laugh tearing its way out of him. If he wasn’t careful, she might make him act like a fool tonight. Hell, he probably would anyways. Beautiful people were a known weakness of his. She spun around to face him, pulling him close. Making the first move. Respect. He settled his hands on her hips as they moved to the rhythm. And _damn,_ could she move. Her arms wrapped around his neck, drawing him even closer. “This isn’t just a weird dream, right?” She asked, giggling.

He smirked lecherously at her. “Admitting that you dream of me on the first date? Bold.”

She stumbled. Her heels were definitely a hazard. “I—no! That wasn’t—“

Christ, she was cute. He chuckled, and she huffed, annoyed. But then she got a glint in her eyes that made Raleigh equal parts scared and excited. Before he could blink, she turned around and pushed back onto him, grinding to the beat. His hands tightened on her hips. If he groaned a little, that was between him and his ego. He leaned forward to murmur in her ear as he slowly slid his hands up and down her body: “You’ve got to be the hottest girl in this damn city.”

She gasped slightly, a little shiver running through her. Raleigh grinned again, gratified. He dropped his hands again, one returning to her hip, the other squeezing her thigh. Anaya gasped again, breathier, pressing further onto him, and oh, God, he was getting way too hard way too fast.

It took him a while to notice that Anaya’s ass was buzzing. He didn’t even really register it until she was pulling away, taking her phone out of her pocket.

“Right now?” He asked, maybe a touch petulant. His hands felt… empty.

“It’s my friends,” She said apologetically, but didn’t elaborate further. He watched as she started to frown, and then sighed with resignation. “I have to go. I need to make sure Shane doesn’t, like, die.”

Raleigh didn’t know who Shane was, nor did he particularly care at the moment. “Do you have to?” He pointedly dragged his gaze up her body.

Anaya gave him a look. “Yes,” She said.

He sighed, taking a step closer. “Then I guess I’ll just have to give you something to remember me by.” His fingers curled under her chin, tilting her head up.

A slow smile spread across her face. Raleigh leaned in, stopping with less than an inch between them. He waited a second, and then—

She cupped his face and pulled him in the rest of the way. Their lips crashed together, and, okay, Raleigh had heard of people saying they felt fireworks with a kiss, but this was the first time he understood what that meant. It was like the entire world had been off-balance and was suddenly righted.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, deepening it. Anaya moaned as he slipped his tongue inside her mouth. She tasted like cherry and rum.

It was over too quickly, both of them left gasping for breath. Anaya pressed another quick kiss to his lips before she slipped away, leaving a strange emptiness in her place. She looked dazed. Raleigh smirked.

“Good, right?” He asked.

She blinked a few times, as if clearing her head, then swatted his shoulder, laughing. “God, you really are an asshole.” Her phone buzzed and she glanced at it. “And I really have to go.”

He shrugged off his disappointment. “If you say so.”

Anaya smiled at him—painfully polite—then vanished into the crowd. He stood there a minute, lamenting the half-formed plans he’d had for the rest of the night. He’d thought he’d at least get to take her for a drive or something. Not that it mattered, he told himself. If he wanted a quick fuck, there were plenty of debutants back at the table who’d be down. None of them would be her, not nearly as charming and fun, but whatever. He’d live. After downing more shots, of course.

* * *

Raleigh woke up the next morning to a killer headache and naked people he only sort of recognized lying in his bed.

He stared at the hotel ceiling, an heiress’ arm thrown over his torso and some actor’s hair tickling his face. Though he didn’t like inviting just anyone over to his apartment, he wished he’d just bit the bullet last night and forgone the hotel room. Now he had to trudge home with one terrible hangover, and he was so not in the mood to deal with the paparazzi who were undoubtedly circling like vultures now. There were probably already headlines about his bender last night. He dragged the hand not pinned under the guy next to him over his face, scrubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Slowly, he disentangled himself and started rummaging around the room for his clothes. He found his phone and wallet and was out the door before anyone else woke up, sunglasses planted firmly on his face.

Sure enough, the usual press gaggle was waiting for him. Luckily he’d had the foresight to call a car upstairs. He hopped in, gave his address, and collapsed backwards against the seat, ignoring the bright camera flashes through the tinted windows. He really should’ve just gone back to his apartment last night.

As he watched the city go by, he reflected that he probably would’ve, had the company been different.

It was bizarre—he wasn’t one to get hung up over a person he barely knew. Hell, he didn’t get hung up over _anyone_. But he couldn’t stop thinking about her, and how much fun he’d had while having the most bare minimum of conversations with her. She’d sparked a curiosity in him; he’d wanted to see where it would go. Except there was literally zero chance of that happening, especially now that the night was over. She hadn’t even given her last name or anything. Raleigh sighed. He didn’t like wasted opportunities.

The memory of her laughter floated to the surface. Almost immediately, it was followed by a sudden inspiration:

_Baby, you taste like black cherry rum.  
You and me could have some fun._

Raleigh blinked. Welp. There went his writer’s block. His manager would be happy about that, at least, if literally nothing else.

He replayed what he could remember of the night in his head, chasing lyrics as they popped up out of nowhere, the idea of a beat thumping in the back of his brain. It felt good, being inspired for the first time in months. But weird that it was from grinding on a complete stranger for all of forty-five minutes. Well. There were worse ways to jump back in the game.

<p align="center"> </p><hr />

A month later, his new single “cherry rum” dropped suddenly and without promotion. It was in the top five within two days. Raleigh’s ego was doing wonderfully. Until, a few weeks after the release, a buddy messaged him a link to some Youtube video, practically begging him to watch it.

The thumbnail wouldn’t load so he didn’t have any expectations when he clicked on it, but that didn’t stop him from being completely blindsided, so much so that he dropped his phone in the—thankfully empty and relatively dry—kitchen sink.

It was a cover of his song. And Anaya was the one singing it.

The video was edited so the screen was split into four sections—one with her at the piano, her in front of a mic, her with a guitar, and a shot of her hands playing on a grid instrument. Raleigh stared at it for a second, assuring himself he wasn’t hallucinating. Belatedly, he thought of the calluses on her hand. He sat down at his counter and pressed play.

Music filled his apartment. Anaya was confident with all the instruments, clearly comfortable and practiced. He kept staring at her hands on the piano; slender, nimble fingers dancing up and down the keys. Perfect pianist hands.

When she opened her mouth and started singing, Raleigh whistled low. Damn. She had one hell of a voice. Even through a screen, her performance caught all of his attention. Everything about her was magnetic, from her expression to her emotion to the simple way the words fell out of her. The video ended and he cursed himself for not making the song longer. Five minutes wasn’t nearly enough. He replayed the video three more times. Then he went to her channel and scrolled through the videos uploaded. Most of them were covers, different sets filmed in the same dingy bar. (Some quick Googling led him to a place in Indiana called the Quacking Duck. Had she just been visiting New York, then? Or did she move?) There were a few originals up on her channel, too. Out of curiosity, Raleigh played one. Then he went back and played her other originals, and after listening to them all repeatedly Raleigh wondered what the hell the industry was even doing when there were real artists like her out there. Her music was genuinely amazing. And on her cheap little mic, too—there’d be no stopping her once she got to an actual recording studio.

Anaya’s voice was one that came once in a generation. It was obvious. Yet somehow, her channel only had a few hundred subscribers. That didn’t sit right with him.

Raleigh didn’t think twice before he tweeted the link to the video, nor did he think twice about adding a caption that said, “I’ll say it. She did it better.”

He turned off his phone for the next couple of hours and went about his day as planned. When he eventually looked again, lying on his couch that night, both he and his song were trending, along with the phrase “she did it better,” and all of Anaya’s social media profiles suddenly had thousands upon thousands of followers. Most days, Raleigh thought that fame had more cons than pros. Today was not one of those days.

Anaya had retweeted his original post with the comment, “Is this real life?” Her other recent tweets were all disbelieving and excited, warm welcomes to new fans and gushing ‘thank-yous.’ In Raleigh’s honest opinion, she was too nice for her own good, but at least it was in a way that was refreshing rather than vomit-inducing. The rest of her feed was just retweets and memes about the whole situation.

One in particular made him chuckle: “not yall calling raleigh carrera a simp when he’s clearly just a man with taste.”

He swiped away from her page and paused. After a quick internal debate, he went back and followed her.

All of thirty minutes later, his phone buzzed with a notification—a dm on Twitter. A _few_ dms. He looked at it and raised an eyebrow. All were from Anaya. Fumbling for the remote to pause the movie he was half-watching, he opened them.

(11:47pm)  
_Ok hi I’ma be real  
I’m still in shock that u even saw my video in the first place  
But tweeting it to ur literal millions of followers?  
Thank u so much but also wtf  
“She did it better” WHAT??_

Raleigh smiled. Ah. A double-texter.

(11:48pm)  
**i said what i said**

_But WHY_

**because i meant it  
why else**

There wasn’t an immediate response. Raleigh decided to do what he always did when sitting on idle hands: something reckless. His grandmother always had a saying about idle hands. If only she knew.

(11:52pm)  
**im not much of a texter**

He included his phone number and sent it to her. It didn’t take long until his phone was lighting up with a call from a 219 number. 

He answered on the third ring. “That was fast,” He said without preamble. There was a long stretch of silence on the other line. Not even breathing. “Hello?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Anaya said suddenly. “I just—you probably didn’t want me to call you right _now,_ huh? I’m sure you’re busy, I don’t know, with music and models and stuff, so I should just—“

“I wouldn’t have picked up if I was busy,” Raleigh interrupted. That wasn’t quite true. Whether or not he answered a call never had anything to do with his availability. “So. Fifteen minutes. How’s it going so far?”

She laughed. “I can’t believe you. I mean, just—seriously, why?”

He rolled his eyes. “I told you why.”

“Okay, but this isn’t just because…” Her question trailed off. But he had a feeling he knew what she was about to ask.

“Because we messed around a little?” He asked, as if he hadn’t written an entire song about that night.

“So you _do_ remember,” She said, mostly to herself. “But, yeah. This isn’t just you trying to get in my pants, right? Or, just, like, taunt me? ‘Cause—‘cause that’d be pretty cruel. Even for you.”

Raleigh wanted to retort that she couldn’t really make that last judgement, seeing as she didn’t know him. But she sounded pretty worried, and maybe it was his fault, so he bit his tongue for once. “Nah, that’s way too elaborate of a scheme. Besides, I wouldn’t do that to you. I’m not _that_ much of a prick.” He stood, walking over to the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. “I shared your video because it was good. Great actually. I mean, very unrefined, but I know talent when I see it and you’re filled to the brim, Anaya.”

There was another beat of silence. Maybe she was in shock, or something. After a minute, Raleigh added, “But hey, if you still want me to get in your pants, I’m down. Up to you.”

Anaya laughed again, music to his ears. “You asshole!” He could hear the smile in her voice. After her laughter faded, she continued softly, “So, you weren’t just being nice or whatever? You really meant it?”

“I’m literally never ‘just being nice,’ Anaya,” He told her. “I say it like it is.”

A little relieved sigh made it through the speaker. “…Thanks, Raleigh.” He tried not to take her surprise personally.

“Don’t thank me yet. There’s always still room to crash and burn.”

She snorted. “God, don’t remind me. This doesn’t feel like it’s actually happening. I’m still getting new followers on _everything_. It’s crazy.”

“You’re on the map now,” Raleigh told her. “And something tells me you’re not going anywhere anytime soon.”

“…Think so?”

“I know so.”

“Why do you even believe in me?” She blurted out. “You hardly know me.”

If Raleigh was completely honest, he wasn’t all that sure. He shrugged. “Call it a hunch.”

“A hunch,” She repeated flatly.

He leaned against the cool glass of the window. “Don’t overthink it, Anaya. I’m sure as hell not going to.”

“Yeah, something tells me thinking isn’t your strong suit.”

He chuckled. “ _Ouch_. That was mean.”

“You can handle it,” She teased. Then, “Hey. Seriously. I can’t thank you enough.”

“Stop thanking me and start gloating. You’ve earned it.”

They made their goodbyes after a few more minutes. Even long after he put his phone away, Raleigh stayed staring at the skyline and tried to ignore the staccato beat of his heart.

* * *

Two weeks later and Anaya got signed to Overknight Records. Raleigh figured it was only a matter of time before they ran into each other.

He found himself a few months afterward at Ryder Kohli’s latest album release party, this time with a group of celebrities he actually had fun with—or, rather, celebrities that actually knew how to have fun.

After absolutely dominating the dance floor with Victoria Fontaine, Raleigh made his way behind the bar. Grabbing a bottle of Hennessy, he headed back towards his commandeered table. The crowd wasn’t exactly easy to get through. More than one elbow dug into his ribs. Halfway to the booth, someone shoved directly into his side, causing the bottle to slip from his hands and shatter all over the floor.

“Hey,” He snapped, turning to them. He faltered.

It was Anaya.

The initial shock wore off the second his drunken brain remembered it wasn’t that unusual for her to be here now. Her first single had already climbed to number one, after all. Besides, he had more important things to worry about—like how stunning she looked, for instance. She was wearing a long gold dress with a slit up the side that made his mouth go dry. Her braids were piled high atop her head like a glittering crown. Their eyes met and Raleigh could’ve sworn he was struck by lightning.

“We’ve gotta stop meeting like this,” He said, grinning at her.

“Yeah, I feel like I’m gonna have to start paying you for damages.” She glanced at the shattered remains of the bottle and winced. “Sorry. Lemme get you—”

Raleigh put his hand on her arm to stop her as she turned towards the bar. “Don’t worry about it.”

“But—”

“It’s fine,” He told her. “Though I gotta say, I _am_ a little offended.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re dressed like that and haven’t been where I am all night.”

A laugh bubbled out of her. “In my defense, I didn’t even know you were here,” She told him, grinning. “Though I guess it makes sense you’d be at the messiest, loudest party in the city.”

“Wouldn’t be a messy and loud party without me,” He agreed. “Congrats on that single, by the way. What did I tell you?”

Anaya rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, you were right,” She said, “And thanks, I think.”

“Don’t mention it. How you feeling?”

“Like I’m gonna conquer everything.” Her voice took on a dreamy air. “Starting with this song, and then the next. But…”

“But?”

She smiled ruefully. “I mean, there’s always the possibility I’m a one-hit wonder. It feels like all eyes are on me now. Lot of pressure.”

“Forget about it,” He said immediately. “You can’t worry about stuff like that.”

“Easier said than done!”

“I know, but if you let yourself focus too much on other people’s expectations you’ll psych yourself out. You’re in the spotlight now; everyone’s always gonna have an opinion. Just do what feels right for _you,_ okay?”

Anaya tilted her head, looking at him with an indecipherable expression. There was a furrow between her brows that Raleigh felt the need to smooth away. He valiantly kept his hands at his sides.

“I don’t really have all the same luxuries you have,” She said finally. “You’re a man who’s been in this industry a lot longer than me.”

He shrugged. “Fair enough. But staying true to yourself still matters.”

Her eyes twinkled. “Look at you, being all mentorly. Any other tips?”

“If Snoop Dogg ever invites you to smoke with him, say yes.”

She threw her head back and laughed again. Raleigh could’ve listened to it for hours.

The song changed and a familiar beat filled the air, followed by Raleigh’s own voice—“cherry rum” was playing. Recognition flashed across her face. She smiled at him sheepishly. “This is ironic.”

“I’d say convenient.” He offered her his hand. “Hey. How about we pick up where we left off?”

Anaya smiled, taking his offered hand. “Sure. Why the hell not?”

He grinned back at her as she led him back to the dance floor. As soon as they were in the middle of the crowd, wrapped around each other, Anaya leaned up and pressed her lips to his.

She tasted like cherries.


End file.
